


Protect You

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Catholic Rosary, Hand Jobs, M/M, Murder, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 06:12:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9706820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: Stakeouts wereboring: that much Jason was completely certain of. He'd been out here for hours and his mind was starting to pay the price of it. With no phone to play with - the light too bright and a giveaway that he was in the car at all - and no one to talk to, it was starting to wear on him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For JayTimWeek:VDE Day 1: Crush - February 14th  
> Beta Readers: kate1zena  
> Song[s]: "Way Down We Go" by Kaleo

Stakeouts were _boring_ : that much Jason was completely certain of. He'd been out here for hours and his mind was starting to pay the price of it. With no phone to play with - the light too bright and a giveaway that he was in the car - and no one to talk to, it was starting to wear on him. Hours of thinking about cases, of hastily scribbling notes when he thought of some advancement or other, brought him to this very point. The place in his mind wherein he began to examine _himself_ instead of everyone else. 

It was a place Jason tried to avoid at all costs - had built his entire life around avoiding. Regardless of all of that, he sat there, fingers lightly drumming on his thighs, his thoughts playing a horrible horror show in his mind. He could feel the creep of the grave he'd woken up in, the choking cloy of _earth_ almost seemed to permeate the car itself. He had to fight himself on every breath, tug it into his lungs and convince his mind again and again that he wasn't stuck in that place again. 

A battle waged in every ring of the circus that was his thoughts. One telling him he was substandard; just above the filth he was trailing, another telling him he was worth so much more than that - both to this city and to the family that continued to try to save him despite his methods. Another showed him the carnage of his resurgence, of the first year or so he'd been back, another part of it telling him he hadn't been able to control so much of that back then.

His head hit the headrest and he swallowed thickly, feeling the bile rise in his throat, almost swore the stench of death was adding to the horrid earthen scent that existed only in the confines of his own mind. He wanted Artemis. He wanted Bizzaro. Hell, he wanted Roy Goddamn Harper to show up and calm him down. He'd have taken Kori at this point and that was a whole other level of hell he wasn't quite prepared to face. 

Sucking in another breath, he tried to steady himself, pushed at the thoughts that wouldn't shut up, shoved at the images he didn't want to recall. Some way, some _how_ something would work.

His fingers slipped under the neck of his worn gray t-shirt, found the rosary tucked there. His lips moved with the prayers he'd learned so very long ago, the words slipping free without effort, soothing at his restless nerves in a way nothing else ever did. "Creo en Dios, Padre todopoderoso, creador del Cielo y de la Tierra."

Another tremble of his fingers and he clutched harder at the rosary beads, slipping down over them as he allowed his words to take form, to create a delicate whisper within the confines of the car. "Creo en Jesucristo su único Hijo, Nuestro Señor, que fue concebido por obra y gracia del Espíritu Santo. Nació de Santa María Virgen."

 

His eyes opened as he settled into the rhythm of it, tracking the movement of his target through their home, between the wide-open windows. "Padeció bajo el poder de Poncio Pilato. Fue crucificado, muerto y sepultado. Descendió a los infiernos. Al tercer día resucitó de entre los muertos. Subió a los cielos y está a la diestra de Dios Padre." 

Jason watched another figure enter the house, watched them slip from the left-open door through the dining room and he let go of his rosary, opened the car and stepped out in one fluid movement, drawing his gun and aiming at the next window. The prayer continued, the faintest hint of his voice on the wind as he adjusted for it, one hand cupping under the other, a slight movement to the right and his finger slid to the trigger. "Desde allí ha de venir a juzgar a los vivos y a los muertos. Creo en el Espíritu Santo, en la Santa Iglesia Católica, la comumión de los Santos en el perdon de los pecados la resurrección de los muertos y la vida eterna." He pulled the trigger as the figure appeared and they went down hard, a perfect shot right through their head.

For one moment, he stood there, taking in a deep breath that didn't smell like earth, didn't taste like bile, and he breathed out a single word, "Amen." He turned and slipped back into the car, started the engine and pulled away from the curb and left the barren side-street. 

Miles later - having avoided every traffic camera known to man - he pulled the car into a garage and got out, tucking his gun away and pulling his bag out of the passenger seat, all of his notes stuffed into it. Slinging it over his shoulder, he held out his hand to the guy who was staring at the car. "Break 'er down, make it disappear. Bare minimum fee for the parts will be fine."

The guy counted out an even thousand and pushed it against his waiting palm. Jason tucked the bills into his jeans pocket and tipped the baseball cap he was wearing, stepping back out of the garage, hearing the whirr of the door sliding shut as he set off down the street. A block later, he ditched his baseball cap in a dumpster and another half block beyond that, he left his jacket on a sleeping homeless man, pulling out his usual jacket from the bag he was carrying and tugging it on.

He stepped around the corner and pulled out his phone, turning it on and letting it start the process of booting up. Another half block and he stepped into a coffee shop, dialed Tim's number and ordered a skinny latte and an Americano from the barista as he waited on the line to connect. He paid with one of the hundreds, putting the change into his wallet instead of his pocket and sighed as the line went to voicemail. He disconnected and pushed the phone back into his pocket, accepting the coffee and stepping out of the shop, staring up at darkened window of Tim's apartment. 

Given their jobs it was entirely possible Tim was asleep for once; but it was also possible he was just plain _out_ and Jason didn't like those odds. All the same, he made his way across the street and slipped into the building just as a woman was coming out. He thanked her and she smiled as she let him right in past the code-protected door. He waited for the elevator and stepped in, another passenger boarding with him and pressing their number as he played at fumbling for his wallet around everything.

"What floor?"

He gave them a grateful smile and murmured, "Eighth. Thanks."

They slid their card in and pushed it for him and Jason settled back, waiting on it to go to their floor and drop them off, then proceed to Tim's floor. It wasn't that he didn't have access to the building or that he couldn't find another way to gain it; it was more that he enjoyed the _game_ of social engineering. He liked to play people for whatever they were worth when it wasn't going to hurt anyone and visiting Tim wasn't going to harm a single fly.

He stepped off and made his way down the hallway to the very last door, pausing to listen and then shifting the drinks to one hand, pulling out his keys with the other and quietly unlocking Tim's door. He stepped inside the apartment, paused as the bio-identifiers registered him and allotted him as an allowed being in Tim's home, and then closed the door, locking it behind himself.

The living room light clicked on and Jason paused finding Tim standing beside the light, escrima in one hand, the other rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Coulda warned me."

"Could've answered your phone," Jason countered, settling the coffees on the counter, ditching his bag on the floor next to it and shrugging out of his jacket, hanging it over the back of one of the chairs. 

Tim looked a bit sheepish, meandering toward him, his t-shirt slipping further and further off of his shoulder as he moved across the living room. Jason allowed his gaze to find the hem of it, the way it fell to mid-thigh, hiding if Tim was wearing anything underneath it. It was a mystery Jason had never unraveled and didn't trust himself to ask. 

Turning away before Tim could look up, Jason busied himself with finding two pieces of bread, popping them into the toaster and setting it just how Tim liked, turning it on. "Still have that apple butter I left you?"

"Yeah... some." He heard the scrape of the chair as Tim pulled it out and then plopped down in it. "You do it?" The tone of his voice changed with the question and Jason knew they were all business now.

He opened the fridge, rooting it out and spun the lid off, opening one of Tim's drawers and pulling out a knife. "Yeah." He shrugged, trying to play it off like it was nothing.

"Don't shrug at me." Tim let out a puff of breath that told Jason he was trying to chase a stray hair out of his field of vision. "That was only a fucking foreign _defense_ minister. No big deal, right?"

Jason pulled the toast free, smeared some apple butter on one half and slapped the other onto it, turning and handing it over to Tim. "I don't want to talk about it."

Tim sighed, accepting the toast and plucking the latte out of the cup holder, taking a big swig of it before tearing off a bite, chewing slowly. He swallowed and Jason finally met his eyes for a fleeting second. "It's happening again?"

"Never stopped." Jason tugged out a chair opposite Tim and settled on the edge of it, taking his own coffee from the holder. He gave it one tentative sip and settled it on the counter, curling his hands around the warmth of it. "Again, don't want to talk about it."

He could hear Tim chewing, the quiet sound of it in the otherwise dead-silent apartment contrasting over their breathing. Finally Tim offered, "Then what _do_ you want to talk about, Jay?"

_About whether or not you're wearing underwear under that shirt. About the way the gun always feels in my hand in the seconds before I do it. About the earth in my nose and the bile in my throat and how you'll never understand. About how much I need all of you around me and you're the only one who will give me the time of day. About how good it would feel to touch you._

A million thoughts stumbled over one another and Jason clamped his lips shut, gritted his teeth through them and debated plucking another prayer from his arsenal to redirect his thoughts. 

"Jay..." Tim's voice cut in and he jerked his head up to stare into the warm depths of his eyes. "You're a hundred miles away. Come back to me." Tim settled the last bit of his crust on the counter and wiped his hand over his mouth. Shifting forward on the chair, he leaned on his elbows and regarded Jason carefully. "Give me at least one of those thoughts."

Jason's heart gave a sickly little thud in his chest and he tipped his head back, trying to turn it into a joke, something to be snide about. "Heh." He pushed himself up from the chair, leaned over the counter and gave Tim his best impression of how he imagined Dick would look if he were trying to fake-seduce someone. "Was wondering if you had a playmate somewhere back in your room. That's all."

Tim looked a little taken aback, but brushed it off with a surprising speed. "Wrong bits, thanks." He gave Jason a serene sort of smile. "You know, for someone who does quite the job at going undercover and going in deep, you do a shit job at covering your real feelings."

For an instant, Jason thought for sure a camera crew was going to burst out of somewhere and shove their microphones and cameras in his face, telling him he'd been pranked and Tim looked like he did just to drive Jason into this exact spot. Instead, the room remained eerily quiet as they regarded one another. Jason could feel himself shutting down, boarding up his walls to keep Tim on the other side of them, and it felt so much like the damp darkness of his own personal coffin. 

He shifted back, gave a dark little laugh. "You think you know me so well, but not one of you knows a damn thing." He turned away, making a point of unplugging the toaster, moving to shake the crumbs from the bottom into the trash. Tim was _so bad_ at remembering.

"I know you still have your gun on you because it makes you feel like there's something there to protect you. You don't need it, but the press of it against you eases something you can't quite shake. I know you haven't been close to anyone since you split ways with Roy and I know that was verging on something that scared the shit out of you so you ran away from it." Tim's voice was behind him when he spoke again, quieter this time. "I know the way you look at me and what it means and I know you're afraid of that too. What I don't understand is why it's so terrible to let someone else in."

Jason settled the toaster back in its place and set about washing off the knife he'd used, his lips set in a thin line as he waited on Tim to say something more. When he didn't, Jason finally offered up his own words, quiet and surprisingly level.

"No one else needs to know my Hell." He dried off the knife and put it back in the drawer, the sound of it closing feeling like a finality that he wasn't quite prepared for. "Something I did somewhere decided that I deserved this sort of life and there is _nothing_ you have ever done that would ever deserve being pulled into this mess with me."

Tim's hand rested lightly on his back, fingertips caressing in a delicate sort of way until they came to rest on the gun he'd tucked into the back of his pants. His mind catalogued everything about it: the amount of bullets left, the safety he'd turned on, the fact that it needed to be cleaned, the little nick on the barrel from-

"Stop. Stop running away from me inside your mind." Tim lifted the gun from his waistband and took a step away, Jason turning his back to the counter to see where he was going. A half second and Tim was leaning back against his chest, his free hand catching Jason's own, tugging it up over his abdomen and placing it there. He repeated the process with Jason's other hand, settling and bringing the gun up, aiming across the apartment, toward the wall that faced the alleyway. "I could protect you. For _once_ , someone else could protect you."

Jason fought to keep his breath steady, fought to keep his body still against Tim's. The growing circus of his mind dulled, a single ring taking focus, shining the light down on just how quickly he was becoming aroused and just how much time he had until he _had_ to step away. His fingers splayed out on Tim's abdomen, ring and pinky fingers sliding down to the dips of his hips, finding _nothing_ beneath that shirt and he had to stop breathing to hold in the moan that wanted free.

He looked down, finding Tim had tipped his head back, was staring up at him and he couldn't stop the shuddering breath he sucked in. 

Tim's lips curved up in a smile and he slowly brought the gun down, kept it aimed toward the floor between his feet. "Did you find the answer to your burning question?"

Jason _whined_. He couldn't quite believe he did it, but the sound shoved out of his throat and it took everything in him not to buck against Tim, not to show him just how quickly he was losing this particular battle. 

Turning, Tim hooked one arm around Jason's neck, the other sliding the gun onto the counter before he used the counter to hoist himself up, legs wrapping around Jason's hips.

Purely out of reflex, Jason caught Tim, held him there, right against the heat of his arousal, the warmth of Tim's _bare_ flesh against him. Two hitching breaths and Jason gave in, gave in with a blindness he hadn't quite expected to be capable of. A dozen steps and he shoved Tim's bedroom door open. Five more and he had them both on the bed, was sliding between Tim's parted thighs, shoving the ridiculous t-shirt up over Tim's hips and taking in _everything_ about him that he'd never seen before. Every scar was catalogued, every single muscle caressed, and then Jason was leaning down, dragging his tongue over Tim's length without so much as a single ounce of preamble. 

Tim cried out, arched and bucked up toward his mouth and Jason took him in, his hands cupping Tim's ridiculously firm ass as he bobbed his head over him, falling into the soothing feeling of his mouth being filled, feeling the world ebb away, leaving just him and Tim behind. He moved over him, sucking and licking until Tim had a handful of his hair and was _pulling_ , until Tim was whimpering out a plea for him to slow down. Only then did he pull up and lick at the tip, looking up at Tim to find him a disheveled mess.

Tim's hair had rubbed against the bed, was sticking up more than it already had been and a pretty little flush painted his cheeks. His lips were slick and parted and Jason knew he'd been biting the lower one from the way it was a shade redder than the other; knew it was the same shade as his own after having Tim in his mouth. 

Jason shivered as Tim reached up and grabbed his shirt, yanked him in and shoved their mouths together. He could taste the coffee and the barest hints of the apple butter, could sense the remnants of peppermint beneath it and put up a silent plea for his own mouth to taste only of coffee and not of the perpetual habit that had sank it's claws into him long ago. 

Tim's hips rolled against him and then his hands were moving, opening Jason's pants, freeing him from them without anything that seemed like effort. Not for the first time, Jason found his mind flitting over the people he _knew_ had been graced by Tim's presence, wondered how they had reacted to having him the first time, if they'd been nearly as far gone as Jason himself was.

Jason's breath stuck in his throat as Tim wrapped a hand around him, began to stroke and he could barely stop himself from bucking his hips. Tim's tongue in his mouth distracted him enough that he felt the edge slide away from him and he thanked everything possible for that. His lips moved down over Tim's jaw and then down to his throat, teeth grazing over his Adam's apple, tongue licking in apology as Tim whined. 

His hand gripped Jason tighter, stroked him faster and Jason gave in, began to rock his hips against Tim's hand, slid one hand down to take Tim in his own, stroking him in time with Tim's movements. Tim's hips arched and he moved until Jason could feel the tip of his cock pressing against Tim's. The sound that left him wasn't something he could have recreated, wasn't even remotely intentional as he jerked his hips frantically, trying to get more of that feeling, feeling himself pulse as he grew so aroused that he could barely stand it, as his body sank into the stage of wanting and _demanding_. 

Jason's hips worked against Tim's hand, his cock sliding through his tight fingers, the head rubbing against Tim's. Dropping his head down, he watched the display for a fragile few seconds and then he was _gone_ , a hopeless case as he rocked his hips against Tim's hand, as he spilled all over Tim's cock, thick pulses of cum sliding down Tim's shaft until Jason was empty.

Sliding down on the bed, Jason took Tim back into his mouth, listened as Tim made every sweet noise in the book for him as he took him in as far as he could. The taste of his own cum was bitter on his tongue and somewhere in the back of his mind, Jason thought that perhaps it wasn't entirely _normal_ that he was enjoying it the way he was. He swallowed it all down, sucking hard enough to hollow out his cheeks and then flicking his tongue over the head of Tim's cock. Another few goes and Tim was choking out Jason's name, his hips arching up hard from the sheets and Jason reached under him to squeeze his ass, feeling Tim clench up and then throb against his tongue. The first few he took right down his throat, swallowing hard against them and then pulled up to let Tim give him the rest against his tongue. The bitter flavor filled his senses and Jason swore his own cock gave a throb of pleasure from having caused Tim's orgasm. 

Sucking him until he was completely done, Jason pulled off and swallowed, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth as he settled back, letting Tim ease himself back down onto the bed. 

For an instant their eyes met and he watched as Tim beamed up at him, his smile filled with intensity and radiance Jason hadn't ever seen there before and it felt like his entire life had been leading him right here, right to Tim's beautiful smile.

Tim's knuckles ghosted over his cheek, his fingertips lightly touching under his jaw and Jason _knew_ what was coming before it ever did. He knew and he embraced it like he'd never done to anything else in his life. 

"I'll protect you."


End file.
